


A Bird in the Hand

by dubiously



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Come Marking, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:03:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7690873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dubiously/pseuds/dubiously
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the spn_rimmathon challenge.  My prompt was:  Light, consensual bondage with one of the boys being tied or handcuffed to the bed; first time rimming. Sam/Dean or Jared/Jensen, established relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bird in the Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Livejournal in March of 2007 for the spn_rimmathon challenge. Just moving it over to the archive.

_28 - Chicago - The Field Museum_

 

_This coffinette was one of four, intended to store and protect Tutankhamun's mummified internal organs in his tomb for eternity. The liver, lungs, intestines and stomach were mummified, wrapped, and each placed into their own little coffin. The one we’re looking at held the liver. The coffin’s splendid appearance shows how important it was to give full honor to the internal organs as well as the body itself. The miniature coffin contains a fascinating secret. To hear about it, press the green arrow now._

The soft, soothing cadence of Omar Sharif’s voice resounded in Jensen’s ears through the headphones provided by the museum’s audio tour. As he moved around the large display case, light glinted and shone in waves off of the gold and lapis. Looking inside the coffinette through the clear casing, the hieroglyphic inscriptions were striking, some perfectly clear, others worn by time and a few intentionally carved out and etched over. The rest of the small show room was flooded in darkness, smoothing out from the artifact and bleeding into the corners.

Most of the tour group moved ahead, shifting slowly into the next room of objects and wonders from abroad. Jensen hung back from the rest of his tour, continuing to circle the coffinette. Looking swiftly around the room from ceiling to floor, Jensen observed and catalogued all security precautions.

With a final look at the golden treasure, Jensen turned and followed his group quickly through the rest of the rooms. Security was tight, with additional tour guards overseeing the exhibit, but it was nothing less than expected. The artifacts were priceless, world renowned, the name of the pharaoh bringing a sense of awe and excitement to people all over.

All things considered, he had anticipated worse. Breaking into the museum wouldn’t be an easy job, but Jensen was more than confident he could pull this off.

 

* * *

 

_17 - Dallas - Lord & Taylor_

 

It had seemed simple enough at the time. Hang around the perfume counter, nonchalantly, like he’s picking out a gift for his girlfriend or grandmother, and wait for a lady to set her purse down on the counter. Then, while she is waiting for the salesclerk to come back with her card or change, Jensen would grab the handbag and run out of the store. He’d done it a dozen times already and never had a problem. That’s probably where he went wrong, got a little too cocky.

This time, everything seemed to be going smoothly. He was at a new store he’d never worked before, and it turned out the perfume counters were near the back of the store, not up near the front doors where he was used to them being. No matter, he figured. There were only an extra twenty or thirty steps for him to go when he was ready to run. He could make it.

He’d snatched the purse and made it halfway to the doors before the woman even realized what had happened and started yelling. He was just turning the corner around a display of folded sweaters when he was grabbed by the arm and yanked around. The security guard, overweight and greying, looked like a shark going in for the kill.

“You’re coming with me, boy. Time to call the cops,” the guard sneered, a self-satisfied glint in his cloudy eyes. Twisting Jensen’s arm up high, he took the handbag away from him and started dragging him along behind him, walking toward the store’s offices.

Jensen dug his heels into the ground, but he knew he couldn’t get away. He’d been caught, and there’d be no explaining his way out of this one. This would be the third arrest for him in the last eight months. He would definitely be serving time. If he was lucky, he could still get juvenile hall –

“Wait, sir. Please, wait!” Jensen and the security guard both stopped and turned toward the source of the voice. A man, tall and broad with dark hair and the beginnings of a beard shadowing his face, was running over to them. “Don’t take him. He’s my son. Please, don’t call the cops,” the man begged earnestly, and reached out to squeeze Jensen’s shoulder.

The guard stared at the man skeptically. “Your son? And you let him behave like this? That poor woman is scared half to death!”

Jensen glanced toward the perfume counters again, where the owner of the purse was still waiting for its return. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was tapping her foot impatiently. If looks could kill, Jensen would be crushed right about now. Hmm. Didn’t seem like scared was quite the right word.

“No, no! God, no. It’s just . . .” the man paused, and leaned in close to the guard, speaking in a low voice. “We’ve been having a lot of problems at home lately. The wife and I, well. It’s been a pretty rough time for Mark here. He’s been acting out a bit, looking for attention, and I’ve been fool enough to ignore him. He’s a good kid ordinarily, I swear. Great grades, baseball team. If you call the cops now and he gets arrested, well. It’ll ruin his whole future, and this is all my fault; really, it is.”

Narrowed eyes slowly traveled up and down Jensen’s slender frame as the guard considered. Jensen did his best to look remorseful and tried to blush.

“Well,” the guard drawled. “I suppose . . . As long as you both swear that nothing like this ever happens again. And I don’t ever want to see either of you in this mall after today. I shouldn’t do this, but.” He let go of Jensen’s arm. “Okay.”

Jensen swallowed around the knot in his throat and smiled, hopeful.

“Now get out of here fast, before I change my mind.”

Turning on his heel, Jensen sped toward the door, needing to put as much distance between himself and the near arrest as possible. This time he was about fifteen feet from the door when he felt a hand on his arm. “Slow down, Son. Give your old man a chance to catch up.”

Glancing to his side, Jensen saw that it was the man who had stopped the guard from calling the police. He was grateful that the man had saved him, but he didn’t ask him for any favors, and he certainly didn’t give any in return. He tried to pull his arm out of the man’s grip, but the hold on his bicep just tightened. “Better not struggle, boy. Gotta make this look good if you still wanna get out of here in one piece,” the man mumbled, eyes straight ahead.

“Why did you do that? Why did you help me? You don’t even know me,” Jensen muttered, quickening his pace toward freedom. But the man remained silent, merely smiled and gave a curt nod to the manager who was waiting to see them out the doors.

A few more steps and they were outside, in the safety of daylight. Jensen expected the man to let go of his arm, but he didn’t, just held on and steered Jensen out across the parking lot. After several yards, the man finally broke the silence. “By the way, my name’s Jeff.”

 

* * *

 

_28 - Chicago - The Field Museum_

 

The museum was massive, and it would be difficult for a person to see all of the exhibits and artifacts in a single day. Luckily, Jensen had no interest in appreciating the displays. Occasionally stopping to peruse a fossil or mummy like any other tourist, he moved through the corridors quickly. He had little trouble comparing the interior of the museum with the blueprints Eric had sent to him, which he had memorized days before.

The preferred entrance and exit plans were already decided, as well as three alternate exit strategies. Jensen did a walkthrough of each, double checking the distances and rooms. If all went well, he would have a clear shot away from the exhibit and out of the building long before the alarms sounded.

Satisfied that the rooms and halls inside the museum were now as familiar to him as his own skin, Jensen left through the front of the building, walked down the steps and hailed a cab to take him to his hotel. 

 

* * *

 

_18 - San Francisco - Kripke Antiques_

 

Dull, dusty objects filled the shelves, floor to ceiling and crammed together in such a haphazard way that Jensen had to wonder about the shop owner’s care and concern for his merchandise. Books were stacked flat in between clusters of vases, clocks and music boxes, their once vibrant colors faded by time and neglect. A worn black and white photograph, the image now dimmed to a pale beige, was crammed behind a few old dolls, their porcelain faces cracked and weathered. Grimacing at the jumble, Jensen shoved aside a few cobwebs and dust bunnies to reach the photograph.

“Boy, you break it, you buy it!” the shop owner’s voice thundered from behind the counter where he stood talking to Jeff.

Jensen jumped so quickly he nearly knocked over one of the antique dolls, his wristwatch snagging in the frayed threads of its dress. Quickly yanking free of the tangle, Jensen shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his face flushed and hot. He could hear Jeff chuckle low as the two up front went back to their hushed conversation. Staring down at the scuffed toes of his boots, Jensen stood still, anxious and unsure.

“Hey, Jen!” Jeff called out. “Jensen, come up here for a minute.”

Shuffling slowly up beside Jeff, Jensen warily eyed the man behind the counter, the smarmy grin on his face belying his earlier crustiness.

“Eric, this here’s my good buddy Jensen,” Jeff said, clapping his hand on Jensen’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “He’s been helping me out the last few months and done a damn good job of it, too.”

Eric glanced back and forth between the two men, then peered doubtfully at Jensen. “I don’t know, Jeff. Looks a little wet behind the ears to me.”

Jensen’s nostrils flared, and he opened his mouth to snarl at the man, but Jeff stopped him. “Nah, he’s a good kid. He was a big help on my last job; couldn’t have done it without him,” Jeff replied, clapping Jensen on the shoulder again, hitting him so hard that Jensen fell off balance and bounced forward on his toes.

“Speaking of . . ." Eric said, pausing as he turned his full attention back to Jeff.

“Yeah, I’ve got it with me. Should we go in the back, make the exchange now?” Jeff murmured quietly.

“Yep. Business first, then we can relax and shoot the shit later,” Eric replied. He walked down the length of the counter to the partition, lifting it up and allowing Jeff to pass through behind the counter. When Eric moved to lower it again, Jeff lightly grasped his arm to stop him.

“No. Jensen’s coming, too,” Jeff demanded, staring Eric in the eye and daring him to refuse. “This is just as much his take as it is mine.”

Eric glanced back over to Jensen and gave him one final, quick head-to-toe inspection. His jaw ticked once before he nodded his head, again raising the partition. “Okay,” he said, slick grin back in place. “Come on, kid. Guess this is your lucky day; you’re gonna learn something new.”

Squaring his shoulders and staring Eric straight on, Jensen walked under the partition, joining the two men behind the counter.

 

* * *

 

_28 - Chicago - The Field Museum_

 

Jensen couldn’t believe his luck. Getting inside the museum had been remarkably easy and uneventful. Disabling the exterior alarms and rerouting the surveillance system had been a breeze, the wiring almost exactly like what he had seen in museums around the country. He had quickly accessed the museum’s ventilation system, following the cramped and humid tunnels to just beyond his goal.

Swinging agilely down through the ceiling tiles, he landed silently on the marble counter in the women’s public powder room. Jensen pulled his tiny monitor from the slender, black pack he carried on his back. After a final check to make certain that the cameras in the bathroom and the corridor outside were showing the feed from his override, he hopped to the floor, confident he would not be visible to museum security.

The corridor was empty, as expected. None of the guards should be checking on the exhibit for another fifteen minutes or so. Jensen hurried through the small rooms. Ignoring the glittering jade and ivory artifacts from the Far East, he kept one eye on the monitor where he could watch the guards crowded in the surveillance center.

When he finally reached the right room, he breathed out a sigh of relief. Approaching the clear, glass case, Jensen smiled broadly to himself and removed the pack from his shoulders. He set it on the tile floor and removed his necessary equipment.

As he crouched low next to the display, his eyebrows slowly rose. The sensors around the artifact had already been disarmed. Looking through the case to the piece of glass on the back of the display, he could see a large circular hole cut in the center. Jensen jumped to his feet and took several swift steps back from the display.

 _What the hell?_ Another thief? Had the buyer hired more than one fence? Eric wouldn’t have sent in someone else if he knew Jensen was here . . .

Jensen again pulled out the monitor, changing the display back to the feed showing the exhibit. As he watched, the video quickly flipped and turned to static before showing a clear image of Jensen standing in the museum, his pack at his feet.

 _Shit! It’s a set up!_ Eric had set him up, that bastard. Jensen dove back to the floor, throwing his equipment back into the pack, leaving out the monitor to aid him in his escape. Pack again on his shoulders, he stood and spared a final look at the image on his display. For the second time, static covered the screen. This time when it cleared, the room was again deserted, Jensen now hidden.

Furrowing his brow, Jensen turned back toward the artifact. With a last longing glance at the display case, he assessed the situation. Uncertain of whom, and what, else was in the building, he decided to abandon the job and exit the museum.

At the sound of footsteps behind him, Jensen froze. Breathing hard, he turned toward the approaching sound.

 

* * *

 

_22 - San Antonio - 7-11_

 

“And don’t forget my Twizzlers this time, kid!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen muttered good-naturedly as he slammed the car door shut behind him. He’d never understand how Jeff could eat that flavorless, near-plastic crap, but if it would keep him off Jensen’s back for a few hours, he was more than happy to pick some up along with his Ding Dongs. He walked quickly across the cold, mostly deserted parking lot and entered the convenience store.

He was just pulling a couple of Cokes out of the refrigerated section when he heard the commotion at the front of the store.

“I said, shut up and go open the safe!”

“Sir, I’m sorry. Please, I told you. I don’t know the combination. Please!”

Crouching low to hide behind the shelves, Jensen slowly crept up an aisle toward the front counter. The store wasn’t large, and a few steps had him peeking around the aisle cap. He could see the store clerk shaking, his hands up by his ears, a pistol waving in his face. The young man holding the gun appeared huge as he loomed over the counter, and Jensen noticed a bead of sweat tracking down the side of his face.

“Come on, man, just give me the cash. The cash in the register!” he insisted, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other, then back again. The clerk snapped open the register and started shoving the cash into a clear plastic bag.

The kid looked young, maybe as young as Jensen had been when he’d run into Jeff. Jensen quickly tracked his eyes up and down the boy’s tall frame, assessing. He looked hungry, but not dangerously thin; desperate, but probably not an addict. A runaway, maybe? Fallen on hard times? As a runaway himself, Jensen knew there were no other times to be had. The streets had always been hard and unforgiving on him. Well, at least until Jeff had helped him, taken him in and shown him the ropes. No more petty theft and purse snatching for him. Or armed robbery.

Jensen winced. No matter what the job, he and Jeff knew; no guns. Get caught like that, and the courts would show no mercy.

The bag of money was just changing hands as the wail of sirens resonated through the tiny store.

“You tripped the alarm?” the kid shouted, glancing back and forth between the front door and the clerk. “Shit!” He ran to the door and paced quickly in front of it, clearly uncertain of his next move.

Acting on instinct, Jensen jumped from his hiding place and ran toward him. “Hey, man," Jensen began, but stopped quickly when the boy nervously raised the gun at his chest, his hand shaking. “Okay, kid. I just wanna help you, okay?”

The kid laughed. “Help me? I don’t need your help!”

“Oh, yeah? Where are you gonna go? The cops are gonna be here within two minutes. I don’t see a getaway car waiting on you out there.”

The boy shook his head, lowering the gun.

“Come on, man. I can help you get out of here. Just trust me,” Jensen begged.

The gun quickly flew up again, aimed at Jensen’s heart, before the boy dropped his arm to his side. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

Jensen fled across the small distance remaining between himself and the door, and then shoved the boy through it and outside of the store. “Over here!” Grabbing the kid’s arm, he yanked him quickly toward Jeff’s car. The two piled into the back as Jeff turned in his seat.

“Jensen, what the hell is this? What’s going on?” Jeff demanded, shocked and uncertain.

“Just drive, Jeff. Please, just go!”

With a swift, hard look at Jensen’s face, Jeff turned back toward the steering wheel and threw the car into reverse, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street. Several tense minutes passed as Jeff turned through residential side streets, avoiding the sounds of the sirens. As the miles between the car and the store increased, Jensen heaved a sigh and leaned his head back against the seat. The kid shifted uncomfortably beside him, his too long legs crammed behind Jeff’s seat back. Jensen nudged his shoulder. “So, was the take at least worth it?”

Clutching the bag close to his chest, the boy scowled at him. “Forget it. I appreciate you saving my ass back there, but you aren’t getting a dime of this money.”

Jensen nearly rolled with laughter, his head thrown back, shoulders shaking. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he could see Jeff’s small smirk. “Don’t worry, kid. I don’t need your money. ‘Sides, you earned all of it, right?”

The boy huffed and turned his head to look out the window. “Where’re you headed, anyway? Where are you staying?” When Jensen received no response, he tried another tactic. “By the way, I’m Jensen. And uh, that guy up front is Jeff.”

The young man remained silent, staring out into the night darkness and giving no indication that he had heard Jensen’s comments. Jensen turned to look out of his own window and noticed Jeff pulling onto the entrance ramp for the interstate. Surprised, Jensen again glanced at Jeff through the rearview mirror, and their gazes locked. They had a job to reach in Phoenix and a plan of action to put together before the end of the week. Jensen had expected Jeff to drop the kid off as soon as it seemed safe.

“You forgot my damn Twizzlers again, didn’t you?”

Jensen snorted, then reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out the red candy and tossing the packet into the front seat. When Jeff grinned broadly, Jensen relaxed and settled back into his seat, stretching out for the long ride ahead.

It was twenty minutes later when a quiet murmur to his left roused him. “Hmmm . . . ?” he groaned, tilting his head toward the origin of the noise.

“Jared. It’s Jared,” the boy repeated, before Jensen drifted back off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

_28 - Chicago - The Field Museum_

 

“Jared? What the hell are you doing here?” Jensen hissed.

Jared blinked at Jensen, coming to a stop on the other side of the display case. “Me? I’m working a job! What are you doing here?”

“Same thing, apparently,” Jensen replied. He gnawed at his lower lip, thinking. What kind of a novice buyer would work through two fences? Was the buyer trying to get them caught?

“Well, look. Jensen. I’ve already got this taken care of, so you can just take off anytime--"

“What? No way, Jared. This is my take, my job!” “Forget it, Jensen! I was here first--”

“Okay, wait,” Jensen said, holding up his hand to stop Jared from going into a tirade. “Look. I can see you’ve already done half the job here, disarming the sensors and opening the case. I’ll be fair. Fifty-fifty split. I think that’s a good deal.”

“Are you kidding me? No way! What exactly is your contribution that deserves fifty percent of the fee?”

“Well, I . . . Uh.” Jensen scratched his head. “I overrode the surveillance feeds.”

“Which screwed with my feed, by the way. And left you exposed on the guards’ monitors when I tried to cut mine off.” Jared crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at Jensen. “You can thank me anytime now for putting yours back up, rather than leaving you for the dogs.”

“Why, you little--" Jensen growled as he flew around the display case, throwing himself at Jared’s chest.

Miscalculating the effect of his weight on Jared, Jensen bounced off of him and slipped on the slick tile floor. Jensen landed smack on his ass with a curse. He glowered fire at the sound of Jared’s laughter.

“Who’s little again, Jense?” Jared chuckled, then reached down to give Jensen a helping hand back to his feet.

Jensen stared at the massive hand offered to him for a good minute, desperately thinking of a way to get out of this situation with his dignity intact. He was just reaching out to accept Jared’s assistance when he heard a loud crack behind him, and looked up just in time to see Jared’s grin turn to panic before the world went black.

 

* * *

 

_24 - New York City - Soho Grand Hotel_

 

Warm fingers slipped through the sheen of cooling sweat across Jensen’s lower back, swirling and spreading the light film. Jensen hummed softly in the back of his throat, his lips pressed to Jared’s in a kiss still deep, but no longer desperate. The mingled scent of their sweat, sex, come lingered beneath the blankets and in the sheets, crowding the space between their bodies and pervading his senses. With a final, soft caress of tongue against tongue, Jensen shifted to lay alongside Jared’s long frame, his chin resting on Jared’s chest. Their earlier heavy breathing now slowed and stable, the quiet of the room became peaceful, Jared’s smooth palm on his cheek comforting and familiar.

Shrill ringing from the hotel room’s phone invaded their blissful serenity, drawing a weary sigh from Jensen’s lips as he turned his head into the brawny muscle of Jared’s chest, hiding from the unwelcome interruption. Jared gave a low chuckle as Jensen groaned at the second sharp ring. He nudged Jensen lightly, his fingertips tickling at the fine hairs at the nape of Jensen’s neck.

“If you just answer it, it’ll stop,” he urged.

Jensen lifted his head to scowl at the phone before rolling onto his back and reaching across the bed to pick up the receiver. Jeff’s voice came across the line, clear and deep. “Hey, Jensen. Have you seen Jared tonight? I’ve been trying to get in touch with him for the last hour.”

“Uh, yeah. I talked to him earlier,” Jensen replied, his glower fading as Jared leaned toward him, his head bent down to suck and lap one of Jensen’s nipples into a firm nub. “He said something about wanting to spend the evening in bed. Probably just took his phone off the hook so it wouldn’t bother him.”

Jensen bit lightly at his lower lip to stifle a moan as a pointed tongue left a slick trail across his chest, teasing and flicking his other nipple. The fingers of his free hand combed through Jared’s tangled hair, rhythmically tightening and releasing. “What’d you need, Jeff?”

“I got a call from Eric earlier, a job in Philadelphia next month. It’ll take all three of us to pull it off, but the pay will be worth it. When you talk to Jared again, let him know that I need you both down here tomorrow or the next day to start setting this thing up. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll tell him. We’ll see you in a day or two, then.”

Blunt teeth nipped at the hardening bud of Jensen’s nipple, sinking into the tender flesh. The phone receiver barely clanged to a rest on its cradle before Jensen let out an indignant yelp. He glared down at Jared’s smirk.

“Now, where were we?” Jared asked, eyebrows waggling as his fingers threaded through the coarse golden down framing Jensen’s softened cock.

 

* * *

 

_Three Weeks Ago_

 

Jensen’s eyes squinted open into slender, lash lined slits. The vibration from his cell phone was like the buzzing from a hive of killer bees as it slid across the flat surface of the night stand. Sitting up in bed, Jensen rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he flicked on the bedside lamp and stared at the blinking light on the caller ID. With a snort at the readout, he picked up the phone and flipped it open.

“Christ, Eric, it’s the middle of the night! What do you want?” Jensen grumbled into the phone.

“Is that anyway to greet an old friend? I thought you’d be happy to hear from me after all this time,” Eric replied, his smirk oozing through the line.

“Old friend? That’s a stretch.”

“Hey, relax. Of course we’re friends. In fact, you were the first person I thought of this evening when I was given a new commission from a very reliable buyer. I thought to myself, you know who would be perfect for this job? My old buddy Jensen.”

Jensen let out a deep sigh. “Eric. No. No more. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m retired now. Have been for a while.”

“Come on, Jensen. You know that can’t last. No one ever gets out of the game permanently.”

“Yeah, well, I am. I’m done. I’m not getting back in.”

“Just one job. That’s all I’m asking here. Come on, man. You’re one of the only people I know who can pull this off. Don’t tell me you couldn’t use the money; I know how things are going. Just hear me out, okay? If you still aren’t interested afterward, I promise, I’ll leave you alone. Okay?”

Jensen chewed at his lip and picked at a loose thread on his blanket. Eric had a point; he wasn’t exactly broke, but his bank accounts could definitely use a boost. His living expenses had turned out to be more than he’d anticipated, and his job at the restaurant wasn’t bringing in the tips like he’d hoped. It couldn’t hurt to at least hear the details, right? And then if Eric kept his promise to leave him alone . . . It would be worth a few minutes of lost sleep.

“I’m listening.”

 

* * *

 

 

_25 - Philadelphia - Bailey Art Gallery_

 

All he had to do was find a way to distract the employees and security in the front of the gallery. Jared would disarm the security and surveillance systems, then he and Jeff would slip in the back to the storeroom. At the designated time, Jensen would cause a ruckus, drawing attention away from the back rooms.

The plans had been decided and outlined weeks in advance. When, two days before the heist, there came word that a recent string of burglaries in the area had forced the gallery’s security to start packing firearms, they agreed to go ahead with their plan. Jared hadn’t liked the idea, wanted to start over from scratch with a new strategy, but Jensen assured him that he would be fine and would give the guards no reason to draw their weapons. Jeff sided with Jensen, reminding both of them that they were on a timed schedule. The buyer wanted the item as soon as possible and was willing to pay extra for swift delivery.

But when Jensen found himself looking down the business end of a cold metal barrel, he knew he’d made the wrong choice.

“Don’t move, boy,” the guard hissed, looking about thirty seconds from pissing his own pants. Jerking the gun behind him, he motioned for Jensen to move toward the back of the store. “Didn’t anyone hit the alarm? Where the hell are the cops?”

The salesclerks looked around nervously before a tall, slender woman spoke up. “I thought I did. I don’t know what’s taking so long . . .”

“Hit it again!” the guard yelled, following Jensen as he walked toward the door leading to the back of the gallery. “I’m gonna take this boy into the back to wait for the police.”

Jensen kept his head up as he walked through the dark hallways behind the main gallery, looking for any signs of his partners. The guard pointed him into a storage room, filled with buckets, mops and boxes of cleaning supplies. “You’re gonna wait in that room for the cops to show. Then they can deal with you.”

The hallway they were standing in led directly to the back exit through which Jared and Jeff should have entered. If the guard left him alone in the storage room, Jensen could pick the lock and make a quick escape.

Jensen walked into the dark storage room. They had to move fast before the other employees realized the alarm was disabled and called 911. Once inside, he turned and saw his partners, Jeff holding the small bag and Jared pointing his pistol straight at the guard’s chest.

“Let him go. Now!” Jared shouted, his handy steady and sure holding the gun.

“What the hell are you doing? You brought a gun?” Jensen yelled, not moving as the guard continued to hold him at gunpoint.

“Shut up! I said, let him go. Drop the gun!”

Jeff moved to stand next to Jared and put a hand on Jared’s arm holding the pistol. “Don’t do this! You know better!”

The guard, taking advantage of the tension in the room, quickly whipped around to point his gun at Jared. In the blink of an eye, he fired, but his aim was off, and it was Jeff who went down.

“Jeff! Oh, shit. Jeff!” Jared cried as he dropped to his knees beside his friend. The guard stood in shock. Jensen quickly wrestled the gun away from him before shoving him into the storeroom and locking the door.

“How is he, Jared?” Jensen asked, slightly consoled by Jeff’s groans.

“I’ll be okay,” Jeff panted. “It’s not that bad; he just hit my leg.”

Jensen looked down to see the blood pouring out of his friend’s wound. He fumbled with his belt buckle before stripping off the belt to use as a makeshift tourniquet.

The shrill sound of sirens in the distance stopped him cold. “Okay, Jared. We’ve gotta get him out of here!”

Both taking one of Jeff’s arms, they tried to hoist him up and put his weight on their shoulders. After slipping twice, Jeff fell down hard on his wounded leg and cried out in pain. “You boys just go; leave me here.”

“No, Jeff. We’re not leaving you!” Jensen insisted. He grabbed one of Jeff’s hands and tried to haul him to his feet, but to no avail. Jared stared at the back exit as the wails from the sirens grew louder.

“Jensen, go! You can’t carry me out of here, just go!” Jeff demanded, before turning to Jared. “Jared, man. Get him out of here! You boys need to leave, right now!”

Jared crouched down and squeezed Jeff’s shoulder, giving him a last warm smile. Then he was on his feet with the small bag, yanking Jensen by the arm and pulling him out the exit.

 

* * *

 

_28 - Chicago_

 

The throbbing agony in his skull moved Jensen slowly through the stages of consciousness, until awareness broke through the haze like a brick. With a groan, he tried to move his head to the side, but the waves of pain made even the slightest movements torture. He was lying flat, arms above his head and legs straight out below, a soft surface, mostly like a bed, beneath his back. The sound of running water was coming from close by.

Fluttering his eyes open, he blinked back at the bright light of the room and pulled his hands down to cover his face.

Or at least, that’s what his hands what should be doing. For some reason, they were stubbornly resisting, still placed firmly above his head. Jensen frowned and tugged repeatedly at his arms. He could feel a rope burning into his wrists as he twisted and turned, trying to escape. The ropes were not excessively tight, and probably not painful if he were to lie still, but he knew he would not be able to pull free of them.

Panic started to well in his chest, and the events of the evening slowly surfaced. The museum. The artifact. Had he been caught?

 _Oh, god, Jared!_ Was he all right? Had he managed to get away? The running water stopped, and Jensen fought at the ropes holding him, desperate to get loose.

“You’re awake.”

Jensen froze at the sound of Jared’s voice, followed moments later by the sight of Jared sitting next to Jensen on the bed. “Jared,” Jensen snarled. “Why am I tied down?”

“Because I didn’t know how you would react when you woke up, and I didn’t want you running around God knows where with a possible concussion. Now here, take these.” Jared slipped a hand underneath Jensen’s head and pressed a couple of pills against his lips, urging him to open his mouth and take them. When Jensen kept his lips pressed firmly together, glaring daggers at him, Jared sighed. “They’re just pain killers, Jensen. To help with your head. Now stop being a stubborn ass and take them.”

Jensen finally acquiesced, allowing Jared to place the pills on his tongue and swallowing them with the water from a glass Jared held for him. Jared set Jensen’s head back on the pillow and stood up, moving quietly around the room. Slowly, the effects of the drug relaxed Jensen’s body, easing the pain in his head and the tension in his muscles. His eyes closed and his breathing steadied.

“What happened?” he asked.

Jared came back over and again sat next to him on the bed. “Security guard. One of the regular night watchmen. He must have gotten bored or something and was just wandering around. Probably heard us arguing. He came up behind you, hit you on the back of the head and knocked you out cold.” Jared laughed. “Never even saw me coming.”

“He okay now?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. I just knocked him out, returned the favor for you. Left him in one of the bathrooms with his arms tied behind his back. They’ve probably found him by now.”

“Then what? How did I get here?”

“Easy; I carried you.” Jared paused. “Well, maybe not easy, exactly. You’re fucking heavy, dude. You might wanna think about laying off the Ding Dongs.”

“Fuck you, Padalecki!” Jensen yelled, tugging at his bonds again. Jared snorted.

“Yeah, bet you’d like that, huh?” Jensen stopped and squinted at Jared, unsure if he’d heard correctly.

“Looks like I’m the one tied up here, pal,” he whispered. The moment dragged on in tense silence. Jensen coughed. “And you can take these ropes off me anytime now.”

Jared stared down at Jensen, his expression unreadable. After a minute he shook his head, his floppy hair shifting side to side, coming back to himself. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” He leaned forward, his hands jumping to where the ropes were secured to the headboard, his eyes never leaving Jensen’s face.

Jensen lay still, waiting for the pull on the ropes to signify they were being untied. He heaved an impatient sigh. “Come on, man, hurry up! I wanna get out of here, Jared.”

He jumped slightly when he felt Jared’s large hands covering his own bound ones. “No. No, I don’t think so. I’m gonna leave you like this for a little longer.” Jared stood up and walked down to the foot of the bed.

 

* * *

 

_25 - Philadelphia - Latham Hotel_

 

Closing the door behind him with a soft click, Jensen leaned back against it, desperately trying to catch his ragged breath. Now that they had reached the sanctuary of their hotel room, the events of the night came slamming down hard and unrelenting. Jeff was hurt; taken. Arrested. After everything he had done to help the boys, given them both a chance, he was gone. He’d taken the fall for their rookie mistake, stupid and reckless. Jensen’s heart battered in his chest, the guilt hammering in his skull with each pulse of thick blood through his veins.

Jeff had been like family, his only family, for years, his oldest friend and one of the few people who’d ever given a damn about Jensen and his life. Now he would be going to prison, and no matter how he tried to look at it, it was Jensen’s fault.

He felt Jared move to stand in front of him, his large hands tightly gripping Jensen’s hips. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing you could’ve done; nothing I could’ve done.” Jared’s arms slid solid and strong around Jensen’s waist, pulling their bodies flush together. Soft kisses rained down along Jensen’s neck and cheek.

The initial wave of shock slowly wore off, and Jensen raised his hands between their bodies to push Jared away. “No, Jared! No. That’s it. This is our fault!”

Jensen threw open the closet door, grabbed his duffle bag, and started throwing his clothes and equipment into it. He felt Jared’s hands tugging at his shoulders, trying to turn him around, but he shrugged them off.

“What were you thinking, Jared? Fuck! Rule number one, man. Always. No weapons. No guns. No matter what the job, we go in unarmed. How could you be so stupid?” Jensen yelled, his hands shaking as he shoved his things around in the bag, making room and praying that everything would all fit into the small space.

Jared sighed behind him. “I don’t know, Jensen. I just– I was afraid you would get hurt.”

Jensen’s hands stilled, his jaw clenching. “No. Don’t you lay this on me. I could have handled myself, Jared. And you know, you know that bringing a gun only makes the job more dangerous! It never helps. Someone always pays the price.”

“Jensen, wait. What are you doing? Where’re you gonna go?” Jared asked, running a weary hand over his face.

The last of Jensen’s clothes made it into the bag, and he zipped it closed. Straightening up, he stared at the peeling wallpaper in front of him, refusing to turn and look at Jared. “Away from here, before we both get caught, too. Or worse,” he answered quietly. He picked up his bag and walked toward the door.

“Jensen, please!” Jared grabbed at his hand. “Don’t go, man. Come on, you’re not thinking straight. Just give this some time. You don’t really want to leave.”

Jensen stood quietly and closed his eyes against Jared’s desperation. A light tremble ran through his body at the touch of Jared’s thumb rubbing soothing circles along the palm of his hand.

“You don’t really want to leave me,” Jared murmured into his ear, the words puffing warm across the delicate skin. Jensen turned his head slightly toward the voice, seeking the comfort Jared offered yet unwilling to succumb to his lover’s pleadings. Jared’s lips brushed soft and sure across his ear, his cheekbone, the hardened corner of his mouth. Squeezing Jared’s hand in his, Jensen breathed in the scent of sweat, spice, Jared, before opening his eyes.

With a heavy swallow, he dropped Jared’s hand, opened the door, and walked out on the last person he had left.

 

* * *

 

_28 - Chicago_

 

“What? Quit playing around, Jared, and let me go! Now!” Jensen struggled against the knots, the ropes rubbing raw against the soft skin of his wrists. “Fuck!”

“No, Jensen. Not until we’ve had a little chat first.” Jensen stilled and looked down the length of his body to Jared. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said quietly.

“Yes, there is! Jensen . . .” Jared waved his arms, exasperated, and started to pace. “We were great together! A good team. A great- We were great partners.”

“Great partners? Are you kidding me? Jared, we got Jeff arrested! You got him shot. He’s in prison right now because of us.” Jensen huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “And look at us now. We can’t even pull off a simple in and out theft without screwing it up.”

A sly grin on his face, Jared stopped pacing and opened the hotel room’s armoire. “Yeah, well, you may be right about the screwing up part, but . . .” Jared walked back over to the bed and held out his hand to display the large, glittering jade Buddha. “We can still deliver. I’d already switched out the real Buddha for a replica before you even arrived.”

Jensen gaped at the object in Jared’s hand. He’d managed to knock out the guard, save Jensen’s ass, and snag the prize all in one night. When Jared started laughing, Jensen realized he’d said that last bit out loud.

“You forgot to mention pulled off the job. And as far as snagging the prize, well. I’m working on that.”

A deep red flush worked it’s way up Jensen’s throat and face, and he suddenly remembered he was still tied to the bed. “When did you turn into such a sap?”

Setting the artifact down on the bedside table, Jared joined Jensen on the bed. “Jensen, stop fighting this. I still feel the same, and I know you do, too.”

Jensen looked away. Damn Jared. He knew that Jensen would never be able to lie to him like this.

“We were good together, incredible. As partners and as . . . More. And I know, that if we can just get passed what happened, things can go back to the way they were.” Jared leaned over him, his hands on either side of Jensen’s bound arms.

“Tell me you don’t want to give this another try,” he murmured, before mouthing softly along the stubble forming on Jensen’s jaw.

Eyes scrunched shut, Jensen tried to ignore the onslaught of memory that Jared’s lips and teeth were unleashing, but he could never forget the feel of Jared’s flesh against his own. His body responded, heart pounding as blood pooled in his groin. “Jared. Please,” he whispered, voice strangled through tight throat and clenched teeth.

Large hands reached down to gingerly smooth away the wrinkles forming at the corners of Jensen’s eyes and turn his face back toward Jared. “Shhh. . . It’s okay, baby,” he breathed across Jensen’s lips, nuzzling his freckled nose. “It’ll be okay.”

The first soft, warm press of lips against his own was sweet, the burn and remedy one, ache of a forgotten chasm rising to the surface and closing with the barest brush of skin. Jensen opened his mouth to the kiss, tilting his head for a better angle. His moan of longing was low and deep, and he felt Jared tremble slightly as he stretched out above him.

Lazy, warm kisses and smooth caress of tongue quickly deepened, Jared’s hands sweeping down Jensen’s sides to align their hips. Jensen arched at the feel of Jared’s hardening erection pressed against his own; intimate and known. Home.

“Let me . . . Ah, Jense. Please. Let me take care of you,” Jared murmured, and Jensen responded, lightly teasing Jared’s tongue into his own mouth to suck at the tip. _Yes._

Jared pulled back, unzipping Jensen’s tight black shirt in one swift pull. Straddling Jensen’s hips, Jared leaned back to admire the stretch of pale freckled skin before him. Soft hands skimmed up golden muscle, then along sleek fabric still covering strong arms and came to a rest around bound wrists. Jared pressed down on the ropes, forcing Jensen’s arms back.

Jensen arched his back, relieving the pressure on his shoulders and grinding his hips up into Jared’s. Jared chuckled into Jensen’s neck, puff of breath humid and hot against his throat. With a quick nip at the soft earlobe by his mouth, Jared slid off of Jensen and kneeled at the foot of the bed to rip off his shoes and socks. Pants and boxers soon followed, pooling in a heap on the floor.

Gooseflesh rose under Jared’s fingertips as he rubbed his hands along Jensen’s inner thighs, thumbs massaging and tickling coarse hair. Broad palms and thick fingers grasped his legs, pulling them up until his feet were flat on the mattress near his hips. Jensen’s breath stuttered, spread out and open, vulnerable awaiting his lover’s touch.

When seconds ticked by and Jared continued to simply hold his thighs, rubbing the tension out of the tight muscles, Jensen lifted his head off of the pillow to look down the length of his body. Jared rested in the wide expanse between Jensen’s spread thighs, his head perched above the hard length of Jensen’s dick, hazel eyes watching Jensen intently. “Look at me, Jense,” Jared said, his voice thick and deep with want. “I’m gonna make you tremble and beg me to fuck you. Like this. Watch.”

“Jared . . ." “Shh . . . Just watch, baby.”

Neck muscles protesting the angle, Jensen kept his gaze locked with Jared’s as a pink tongue flicked out to lap at the glistening tip of his cock. He swallowed thickly, fighting to keep his eyes open at the sweet sensations as Jared’s mouth and tongue worked his erection, plunging up and down the heavy shaft.

Jared’s lips pulled off of his dick with a slick pop, and Jensen dropped his head back onto the pillow to relax his neck and catch his breath. A dull ache on his inner thigh forced his head back up to watch Jared suck a red ring into the hard flesh. He let out a quiet whimper when he felt one of Jared’s hands on his balls, lightly rolling them in their sac. “Jared, please.”

Eyebrow raised, Jared brought his other hand up to pump along the length of Jensen’s cock. “Begging already, Jense? Baby, we’ve only just gotten started.”

Another whimper and Jared’s hands let go to reach underneath Jensen’s body and cup his ass. His thumbs grazed along the crease of Jensen’s cheeks before digging into firm muscles, pulling them apart and exposing his asshole. A quick kiss to the puckered flesh, and Jensen’s body shuddered. After the first wet swipe of flat tongue across heated flesh, Jensen cried out Jared’s name, a steady string of curses swiftly following.

Jared slowly worked his tongue through the tight muscle, slick saliva coating the ring. Jensen pulled at his bounds, wanting to thrust his hands into Jared’s hair and hold his hot mouth against him until they were both quivering with exhaustion. One of Jared’s thumbs stroked up to slide around Jensen’s wet rim before slipping in his ass alongside Jared’s tongue.

Jensen’s head again fell back onto the bed, no longer able to hold the painful angle as his chest heaved and pulse thundered. Closing his eyes, Jensen felt the slick warmth of Jared’s tongue leave his body and groaned at the loss.

“Jensen,” Jared called, and his other thumb was there, circling and probing, working it’s way inside his entrance.

“Oh, god, Jared,” Jensen sputtered as both thumbs slid in deep to the last knuckle.

“Come on, Jensen. You can’t look away,” Jared urged. The thumbs were sliding against each other. One in, one out. Stretch, burn, gasp. “I’m not done with you yet.”

With a deep breath, Jensen looked back down at Jared. Jared licked his lips and grinned up at him, his thumbs still thrusting in and out of Jensen’s asshole. “You ready, baby?”

Jensen bit his lip, unsure of the sound he would make, and nodded. Jared met his gaze as his face dipped down, until his eyes were hidden behind Jensen’s balls and the thick jut of his cock. Slow thrusting, then stop, spread the muscle wide open as Jared’s tongue slipped inside between his thumbs.

Hips bucking, Jensen thrust his ass down onto Jared’s face, needing to feel his tongue farther, more. Shallow, teasing probes became faster, deeper, and Jensen writhed, his dick red, the head shiny wet. “Jared. Jared, I need," Jensen begged, desperate for friction on his neglected cock, needing just that little bit more to tumble over the edge. “Jare . . .”

Jared sat up and spit into one hand before reaching for Jensen’s cock, the digit of one hand still stroking inside. “It’s okay, Jense. I’ve got you,” he breathed, hand wrapping tight and slick around the straining erection. “Come for me, baby. Please.”

A few quick jerks, a twist in the wrist and Jensen was coming, splattering milky and thick across his golden stomach. Jensen moaned through his orgasm, breath caught in his throat and arms pulling against their ropes. Short minutes passed as his heart rate slowed, and his breathing became shallow.

When he opened his eyes, he was resting back against the pillows, still bound, with Jared straddling his chest. Jared palmed the side of his face, his other hand engulfing his now freed cock. “God, Jensen. You’re so--"

Jared dove down to claim Jensen’s lips in a fierce kiss, claiming and brutal. When he pulled back, he rose up on his knees, fingers working fast around his thick erection. He wove his hand into the short hairs at Jensen’s crown, thrusting his head back, neck arched and mouth falling open.

“Jense. I missed you so much.” Jared cried out as he came, spunk splashing across Jensen’s throat and face in heavy ropes. He pumped his dick through the final spurts, then smeared the last drop of come across Jensen’s kiss-swollen lip with his cockhead.

Jensen groaned, licking his lips as the heady, familiar scent made his half-softened cock twitch. He felt Jared collapse beside him, heard his panting breath. Jensen relaxed into the mattress just enough to remember his hands still bound above his head. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Jared to release him when he felt the other man move, climbing off the bed to his side. He watched Jared’s impassive face as he made quick work of the knots, efficient and gentle.

Once released, Jensen sat up, rubbing at his wrists to help the blood flow. Jared turned away, stripping off his shirt and pants as he walked to the bathroom. Considering following him, Jensen shifted on the bed, placing his feet flat on the floor. His wrists were sore, rubbed raw and split open in a few small burns. Nothing serious, but he’d like to wash them with soap and water soon.

He looked up as Jared came back into the room, carrying a towel. Walking over to the Buddha, Jared glanced at it for a moment before turning to smile at Jensen. His smile froze when he saw him rubbing lightly at his wrists, fingers flexing. He was at the bed in a flash, standing between Jensen’s spread thighs, the towel tossed onto the blankets. Reaching out, he took Jensen’s hands in his own. “Here. Let me see.”

Jensen stared at his hands, dwarfed in Jared’s, the red burns angry and bright against his pale skin.

“I’m sorry,” Jared murmured, dropping one hand to grasp behind Jensen’s head and tilt his face up toward his own. When Jared caught sight of Jensen’s face, he drew in a quick breath. The hand on his hair clenched, not pulling but holding. Releasing Jensen’s other wrist, his hand came up to cup Jensen’s face, soft palm stroking on rough stubble.

Rubbing his thumb across Jensen’s face, he smeared cooling semen along Jensen’s mouth, slick come sliding between his lips. “Mine.”

Jensen blinked up at Jared, his tongue flicking out to tap at the spunk covered pad of his thumb. Jared picked up the towel, using it to clean the last of the come off of Jensen’s cheeks and throat. A thorough inspection showed no final traces of the thick white, and Jared started to shift away. Jensen’s hands flew to Jared’s hips, gripping and pulling him toward Jensen’s chest.

Placing a soft kiss to Jared’s abs, Jensen buried his face in his stomach, breathing in deep and clear. “Yours.”

His eyes fluttered closed and he smiled faintly as he felt Jared’s arms come up, strong and tight around his shoulders.

 

* * *

 

_Three Weeks Ago_

 

Eric released the breath he’d been holding. “So, is that a yes? You’ll take the job?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it. Too much money to pass up. Besides, it sounds really straight forward, right?”

“Oh, yeah. This kind of thing should just be old rote for you. I’ll send you the blueprints tomorrow. Security should be no problem; they’ll be tight around the tour and won’t be expecting anyone to come in for anything else.”

“Great. I’ll be looking for the delivery tomorrow. I’ll keep you up to speed as I go.”

“Sounds good. I’ll contact the buyer and let them know we’re moving forward. And thanks, Jared. I really appreciate working with you again.”

Eric ended the call with a grin. He knew he was probably getting the pair in over their heads, but he was confident they could still get the job done, even with a surprise or two. They were two of the best thieves he’d ever had work for him, and as a team, they’d been damn near unstoppable. With a little interference, they could be again.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> King Tut and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs Exhibition is an actual tour, however, it is no longer at The Field Museum. I saw it Chicago, so I decided to have the story set there rather than at the tour’s current location. I am just enough of an Egyptology nerd to quote from the actual audio tour. Also, I’m sure it’s not this easy to break into any museum.
> 
> Title taken from the idiom: "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush" by Alexander Pope.


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